Draco had a... troubling... time getting Harry back to St. Mungos. The idiot had a shower first, then he insisted on eating. Basically he kept putting it off.

Then being a Slytherin, remembered Harry had given him Hermione's phone number. So he called her while Harry was cooking, and explained the situation.

In two minutes Hermione was inside the house yelling at Harry.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, GET YOU BUTT BACK TO ST. MUNGOS BEFORE I HEX IT BACK THERE!"

The boy who lived took one look at Hermione, grabbed his wand and apparated away.

"He better have gone to St. Mungos this time, or I really will hex his butt off," Hermione muttered. Then she walked over to the living room. "It's a miracle he saved us when he takes care of himself so poorly."

Then she looked around and she asked, "I did Apparate to Grimauld place right? It looks so different. Whoever did this has some serious taste."

"Thank you Granger. I worked pretty hard on it." Draco replied walking over.

Hermione squinted at Draco, "you did this?"

"Yeah. It really needed it. And by your reaction, I think you agree."

Nodding, Hermione took another look around before looking back at Draco. "I've been bugging Harry about either fixing it up, or selling it for ages. This place is... or used to be depressing. Did you get off the elf heads?"

"They were stubborn little things, but yes. I replaced them with a couple of paintings. They needed a specific spell to get them off. So I called in a guy."

Truly shocked at the work that had been put into the place, Hermione looked around in a circle. A smile graced her lips.

When Harry had volunteered to take in Draco, she had thought it would be a huge battle between the two. It was only a few days in, and she was already starting to approve of them living together for a year. Yes, they would have struggles getting along, but doesn't everyone have a couple?

Perhaps this was what Harry needed. Harry had in a way given up. He'd lost his spark ever since the war. Unfortunately Hermione didn't know how to help him get it back. She knew why he'd dulled so much though. He blamed himself for all the deaths in the war, which was silly. Maybe Draco could help him with that. A distraction at least if nothing else.

"Would you like a tour Granger?"

After an excited nod from Hermione, Draco showed off his handiwork.

......

Not being one to really follow rules, or orders, Harry hadn't gone back to St. Mungos. He'd gone to visit Ron, who had a day off. There was a high likelihood that Ron didn't know about what happened. Even if he did, Ron would probably let it slide this time.

Luckily for Harry, he was right. Ron hadn't known a thing and had asked if Harry was up for a quidditch game. When Harry accepted, Ron got everyone in the house who liked playing quidditch outside. Soon they were getting competitive, and trying their hardest.

Harry's team was losing. Somehow they'd dragged out Percival, who was visiting, and put him on Harry's team. Their only hope at this point was the snitch. As usual, Harry was the seeker.

Appointed seeker on the other team, was Ginny. She could do every position, and still make the game incredibly competitive.

Ever since the fire in the room of requirement, Harry had been apprehensive about getting on a broom. Often he forced himself to try to get rid of the fear. It was one of the many things he had nightmares about these days. It plagued him day and night like everything else did.

Suddenly Ginny raced off in a direction. Swiftly Harry followed. Moments later, Ginny turned around, leaving Harry in the dust. The red head had gone in the wrong direction to put him off.

Zooming after her, Harry was glad he had a better broom. Soon side by side, they both reached for the snitch. For a brief second Harry imagined reaching for Draco's hand, and began hyperventilating after he'd caught the snitch.

Harry found a safe place to land, and stumbled, before roughly falling. The stumbling was enough to open a couple of the closed wounds from earlier, and Harry's vision started to go blurry from pain.

"Harry!" He heard Ron shout before he blacked out.

........

Hermione was quite enjoying her chat with Draco. Showing what he planned to do with the place, showing what he'd done, and adding in some small talk, it was quite a conversation.

The main entrance, the living room, and the kitchen had already been done. That left the bedrooms, hallways, bathrooms, the attic, the cellar, and more. It would be an ongoing process. Draco seemed quite ready for it.

Their conversation was interrupted by Heemione's phone ringing. She picked it up. After speaking for a moment, she got a worried look in her eye.

Grabbing Draco's arm, Hermione apparated to St. Mungos, and went to the place she knew Harry would be.

At this point she knew every single section of St. Mungos by heart. The amount Harry got hurt made sure of that. She'd told Harry multiple times to be careful, but the bloody idiot never seemed to learn.

Soon she was in the section, and she briefly noticed Draco was still following her, before she went to the room they usually put Harry in.

With long strides, she made it there, and the door magically opened for her. Inside she found Harry laying on the bed, wearing a hospital gown, and unconscious.

Draco meekly followed her in, unsure of why Hermione brought him there. Watching, he saw Hermione go up to Harry and grab his hand. Then she spoke, "how many times do we have to tell you to be careful? You hard headed git!"

Fighting his smile, Draco looked over to the mess of ginger hair on the nightstand. He looked terrible too. When Ron finally looked up, there were large shadows under his eyes. "When do you think he'll start to open up to us again?" Ron asked Hermione, obviously talking about Harry.

"I don't know Ron. The war has been hard on him," she spoke softly.

Then there was silence. They'd obviously talked about this before.

Once again, Draco wondered why he was here. This seemed rather intimate, and between the three of them. He felt he was intruding on a private conversation. Although he couldn't leave. He didn't want to.

"What happened?" Draco asked quietly.

Seeing Draco, Ron looked up at Hermione, before handing Draco a sheet of paper moodily.

It was the healer's notes. Reading it over, Draco got an idea of what happened at work, Harry leaving, and reopening his wounds with quidditch.

Ron sighed as he was reading it. "I didn't know he was injured Hermione. He didn't tell me." Ron ruffled his hair aggravatedly. "Why won't he learn that it's okay to show he's hurt?"

"Remember how he was raised Ron," Hermione answered. She lowered herself, and sat beside the bed.

A sad look crossed Ron's eyes, and then he put his head back down.

This seemed almost routine to the two. How often did this happen? Draco sat on the chair by the foot of the bed. Now he had another chance to think stuff over.

The situation was turning out very different from how he thought it would go originally. He'd thought he was going to Azkaban for sure. Then someone 'adopted' him instead. Now he was sitting in a hospital room waiting for his old enemy, now housemate, to wake up.

Ever since he'd gotten involved in the war, he'd admitted to himself that he didn't want Harry dead. Sitting next to him, he seriously wanted Harry to wake up. Not just because his life kind of depended on him waking up.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself intrigued with Harry. In truth, Draco knew he never truly hated Harry either. He was simply hurt that his offer for friendship was rejected, and he took it out on Harry. Seeing how much Hermione and Ron were there for him, Harry had made a good decision.

What was going to happen after this? That was the main question in Draco's mind.

.